Into the Nightmare
by Ember Belli
Summary: Iracebeth had decided that it is time to go up the rabbit hole to track down Alice and murder her. But what will happen when she finds herself in the middle of Fleet Street? Starring: Iracebeth, Beth, Sweeney, Mrs. Lovett, Toby and Genevive
1. Prophecy

**Hey guys, welcome to my first crossover! I plan on making this one a looonggg one! I'm not sharing the plotline but, it's Alice in Wonderland crossed with Sweeney Todd, and all of my OC's are in it! I can't think of a suitable title right now so it'll remain "After Alice" until I can think of something more attention-grabbing. Here goes…**

_**Underland, Salazen Grum, After Alice**_

Only the sound of Princess Beth's boots on the tiled castle floors could be heard as she strode toward the throne room. She had been fast asleep in her chambers when one of her chamber maids came tearing in, claiming that her mother wished to speak to her. As a Princess must, Beth had pushed the covers away from her thin figure and slid out of bed. She hated to relinquish her sweet dreams to be subject to her mother's every whim. It's not as if she hated her mother, she in fact loved her mother very much, she just hated being attention-deprived, as she often was.

Beth, quickly, but still quietly enough not to wake anyone else in the castle, rushed from her chamber, and to the top of the grand staircase. She almost fell down it, but luckily the banister was there for her to catch herself on. As she neared the hallway where the throne room was, it was starting to get dark. Why, some of the candelabrums had blown out. Beth paused as she reached for the throne room doors. She could've sworn that she heard something howl outside the nearest window. Had the Bandersnatch gotten loose again?

She slowly pushed open the double doors, and peered inside.

The throne room was pitch black. She entered the room, stepping quietly toward the throne. Normally, she would've retrieved a candle from a holder somewhere, but she could feel something odd about it all tonight. The room where she was raised, the room where she attended magnificent balls, the room she spent her whole life in. How could she ever have a creepy feeling about this room? Of all the rooms in the castle, she loved this one the most.

Beth quietly neared the throne, when a voice rang out.

"Princess," said the voice. "I did not see you."

It was the voice of her mother.

"You're majesty," said Beth, kneeling in the place where she stood.

"Come here," said the voice quickly.

Beth slowly rose, and strode toward the throne, which she could now see almost clearly. She kneeled at the queen's feet. As she looked up, she could see the shape of her mother's hair, but her face was concealed in shadows. In broad daylight, her mother was ravishing, but it shadows, she was just ominous. Her mother had an immense head of crimson-red hair, a cute pixie nose, and, of course, her utterly large head. After seeing her mother's head for her whole life, she understood why the inhabitants of the Underland Underground Resistance referred to her as: "Bluddy Behg Hid."

It was both unfair and unjust to judge a queen on account of a small mutation if head size. Of everything she wanted to do, Beth wanted to please her mother greatly, by abasing the Underland Underground Resistance.

"Now, I have summoned you for something of vital importance. I am afraid that my time to raise my successor to the throne has just about arrived," said her mother deeply, a bit of sensuality to her voice.

"But, You're Majesty-," Beth said.

"Silence," hissed her mother in a quiet whisper. "I'm not ready to renounce my throne just yet, you, Princess, have much to learn. Therefore, I give you a year to educate yourself and be educated in the finest royal mannerisms, do I make myself clear?"

Beth lowered her head. "Yes, You're Majesty."

The queen shook her head. "Good. Now, off to bed with you."

"Yes," whispered Beth. She curtsied, and then slowly made her way to the doors. She pushed them open, and stood in the single ray of light that poured in from the candelabrums burning in the corridor. She peered over her shoulder, and back at her mother's figure. Why in Underland was the queen sitting alone in the dark? A question Beth was sure she would never answer.

_I love you, Mum_, thought Beth. She quietly exited the throne room.

* * *

Iracebeth sat on her throne, watching her only child exit the throne room. The conversation they had just had was the most important one they would ever share. It was probably the longest conversation they actually had in years, Iracebeth was not afraid to admit that. It's not as if she didn't love or care for her child, she just wants to raise her tough, so she could rule Underland like her mother. The thought of soon retiring as queen abashed Iracebeth quite so. She loved being a monarch, but it just wasn't as fun as it once was.

Not ever since Beth was born.

Iracebeth had it made before she conceived her daughter. She was a young, beautiful queen, without a husband or parents to order her around. A time when she could hold executions either at the crack of dawn or at midnight. It all changed with that one night, when Tarrant Hightop rode into Salazen Grum on a white stallion. The two had conversed in the queen's chamber, drinking wine as they did. Before they knew it, they were exhausted from lovemaking, and were in one another's arms.

Few weeks ahead, Iracebeth began waking up to no bleeding and constant vomiting. Next came the odd dreams and weird cravings. One of which had stuck with her, Tadpoles on toast. Then the child began to quicken, something that Iracebeth was annoyed with at first, then got used to the feeling of being gently nudged within her.

The pregnancy flew by, and it wasn't until one day when she was standing in her throne room, when her baby decided it was time to come.

Long hours of hard, painful labor tied Iracebeth down from her monarch duties. And finally, the princess of Underland was born and was in her mother's grasp.

Iracebeth was torn back to the present by a voice.

"You're Majesty," said the voice.

Iracebeth twitched. It was the captain of her Red Army, Ilosovic Stayne.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Iracebeth fluttered her eyelashes for a moment. "Yes, Stayne," she replied. "I'm just….tired."

Stayne appeared at her side, a candelabrum in his grasp. The way the candlelight half-illuminated his face intimidated Iracebeth. She almost had an urge to gasp over it. Instead, all she did was slump back onto her throne, sighing loudly.

"Is something wrong, Majesty?" Stayne asked, nearing her, offering her comfort.

"No," she sighed. "Yes. I've just told the Princess about the renunciation of my throne."

Stayne rested a hand on her arm. Even though no one was allowed to lay hands on the queen- not even Beth- Iracebeth ignored it, for she always admired him anyway. "Majesty, surely you're your not ready to renounce your throne. Are you?" he asked calmly.

Iracebeth shook her utterly large head. "No. It must be done." She stood from her throne. "Yes, it must be done, and I must fulfill my prophecy," she said, perking up and shaking a fist.

"Pardon me, Majesty, but what prophecy?" Stayne asked. He had never seen his queen act like this, and he was worried.

"The prophecy of the great Alice slayer," she said, pointing upward at the painted throne room ceiling. On the ceiling, a section of the Oraculum was vibrantly painted. According to the Red Queen's Oraculum, she would be the one to slay Alice and restore the Jabberwocky. The story told of a red-headed girl who saved Underland from Alice's wrath- even though Iracebeth was a woman, she was sure the story was about her.

Stayne thought the story to be ridiculous. Everyone in Underland- who even knew the story of the Great Alice Slayer- all knew that it was about Beth. After all it was not just a regular Oraculum- predicted event, it was rather capricious. "I see," said Stayne, trying not to spoil the queen's mood. "But does that require the renunciation of one's throne?" he asked. He slowly began to circle her. "Just think of it, my queen, you, Iracebeth, the Red Queen and Great Alice Slayer!" exclaimed Stayne. He shrugged. "Imagine how much the people would love you."

Iracebeth curled her lips. It was true that her people needed to love her more and her sister less. If she could fulfill the prophecy without removing her crown from her meager head, just think of how powerful she'd be when compared to her pin-headed sister! "You're wight, Stayne. Come. We need our rest. I am leaving for the Upperland on the marrow."

Stayne twisted his face when she wasn't looking. He didn't mean it like that.

So Iracebeth strode from the throne room, arms entwined. "And remember, Stayne, speak of this to no one. If the people find out that I'm gone, they'll try to raise my sister to power while I'm away. And keep it from the Princess to; she has enough things to worry about right now."

**There ya go my first chapter! It's going to be really fun writing this! Believe me! So, in the next chapter, up the rabbit hole we go, and into another world! **


	2. Magic Tricks

2 reviews! Alright! Thanks for reading!

The next morning, after all decisions were decided and bathed warmly in a bath of ginger soap, Iracebeth was finally ready to face the prophecy. She knew that Stayne would help her locate the location where Alice dropped into Underland. Why, it was the famous Round Hall after all. The place where Alice had been dropped into Underland many times before.

Once in the throne room, Iracebeth was joined by the lot of her abettors. Most of them ladies with obvious flaws of hideousness, for instance, a lady with aberrantly large ears. There were a few men as well, also flawed beyond imaginable. One man was cursed an immense weight to bear, literally. Among the ally's of Underland's fearless Red Queen, was Beth. Her only child, her only heir to her throne.

"Majesty," said Stayne, later when they were in private. The courtiers had advanced to the royal courtroom and Beth was in the stables preparing for a ride. "The accommodations for your journey are ready."

"Excellent," commented Iracebeth. "When the Princess leaves on her ride, we shall begin the journey."

Stayne nodded. "'Tis only best."

To Stayne, not informing Beth of her mother's departure was just plain wrong. He had always felt pitiful toward the child, for her mother was strict and harsh to her child on so many levels. When Beth was born, Iracebeth was never around to watch her child grow- but he always was. Stayne remembered when the Princess was only few days old, and she started smiling and cooing at the nursemaids. The babe had smiled at him so many times before. He just couldn't get how rapidly Beth shot into a teenager from just a wee babe.

In the stables, Beth was saddling her copper mare, Penny. She gracefully slung the saddle over the horse's withers, and did up the cinch. Penny snorted friendlily as Beth adjusted the stirrups correctly. Just as Stayne had shown her, she pulled the strap through the loop of leather and fastened it. She pulled it tight, and then bridled the mare.

"Alright, Penny, around the morgue we go," Beth told her mount. She mounted and gently urged her into a trot.

She trotted round the castle, and over the drawbridge. As she made her way past the main entrance to the castle, she saw her mother and Stayne standing in the doorway, talking. As always, the only recognition she received from her mother, was a disappointed look. She ignored it, and cantered outward, toward the entrance to the Tugely Wood. Normally, if she was to go to Marmoreal- as she loved to do behind her mother's back- she would have to cross the red dessert on the Bandersnatch.

_I need some freedom_, she thought.

She decided then that she would spend the day visiting her friends. First, there was Hatter, the March Hare, McTwisp, Mallymkun, and Cheshire in the Outlands, at the Tugely Windmill. Then there were the underprivileged animal children in the morgue, a place where nothing good ever happens. The children there are cold and starving, they're all orphans, besides. Most of the time Beth felt like one of them, even if the children loved her more than her mother ever could. She also decided to stop and pay a visit to her lovely Aunt Mirana. She had always wanted to spend the night in Marmoreal, to see what a _real_ kingdom was run like.

Beth rode at the fastest pace she could. And when the Morgue was in plain view, she smiled.

* * *

As soon as Iracebeth was sure her child was nowhere where she could see her leave, she ordered the knights to carry her to the Round Hall.

"Her saddlebag is missing; she must be planning on being gone all day," said Stayne on the road trip.

"Yes. Make sure she is back by dark, she needs to set an example for the people, and staying out late is not among those examples," countered Iracebeth from her sedan chair. She tightened her grip around her scepter. How dare her child leave the walls without the queen's consent? If she wasn't so busy trying to fulfill a prophecy, she would surely punish her child harshly, as she always had.

"Aye, Majesty," was all Stayne replied.

The road to the Round Hall was long and bland. Luckily, Iracebeth's mind was anywhere else besides there. As a queen, she got bored of the same things quickly, and being on this road for progressions numerous times didn't help at all. She did many things, like twirl her thumbs, or examine her rings, or even her nail paint, but there was no pint in it, the paint never chipped or faded.

Finally, on the urge of holding back tiredness, they reached the Round Hall.

"Majesty," said Stayne smoothly. "We're here." He jumped from his stallion.

Stayne helped her down from her sedan chair, and scanned the surroundings. They were at the entrance to the outskirts of Underland, the Tugely Garden, where many absurd talking flowers live. Most of them have a wicked tongue. Especially the Rosemary, the oldest rose around, she had a tongue on her that was as horrid and offending as the Jabberwocky's breath. Iracebeth didn't care though, her mind was set elsewhere.

Iracebeth smoothly walked forward, nose in the air, through the gates to the Tugely Garden. Many of the plants spat at her, some cursed her name in Outlandish. If only she could speak the language as could as her daughter could, then she cold return the harsh words to these infidel plants! Stayne followed close behind her, his hand resting on the hilt of his broadsword, just in case one of the flowers angered his monarch so, he would take the matters into his own hands.

"Bluddy Behg Hid," sneered a nearby geranium.

"Get outta 'ere ya useless wretch!" said a Scottish-sounding daisy.

"FREAK!" yelled a daffodil.

But Iracebeth pushed on, determined to reach the Round Hall in good timing. It was odd, Rosemary was nowhere in sight, perhaps the thing decided it was time to wither away after all.

And indeed she did. Before she knew it, she was shoving open the huge wooden door to the Round Hall. Inside, everything was dusty and rather worn. Pictures of the old dukes and duchesses- all of them animals- hung on the wall; a huge wooden clock stood nearby. Iracebeth looked at the clock, why, it was nothing like Hightop's grand clock, the one they treasured so much. The one who practically saved her life when….

"Majesty," Stayne interrupted. "I believe Alice entered Underland from yonder."

"What? Huh! Sorry. What are you talking about?" Iracebeth stammered.

Stayne raised his brows in her direction. "I believe Alice came from there."

"Where?"

Stayne extended a finger erect, pointing upward.

Iracebeth looked upward, so that she could see what Stayne was pointing at. Why, there was a gaping hole in the ceiling! And tiles were sprawled on the floor from the wench had fallen through! Iracebeth stepped toward the wall.

"Pardon me, Majesty, but, how are you supposed to get up there."

Iracebeth quirked a brow. "I'm the Red Queen, remember?" she hissed. _I can do anything!_

Iracebeth tensed her hands, and curled her fingers slightly, and began to move them in a twirling motion. She muttered something under her breath, and she swung her arms outward.

Suddenly, the room began to spin like a mouse wheel, and Iracebeth walked in the direction it was spinning. She walked from the floor, to the wall, to another wall, to another wall, and finally, the ceiling became the floor, and she and Stayne were standing upside down. The whole that was once on the ceiling was now near their feet.

"How on earth?" Stayne muttered to himself.

He must have forgot that Iracebeth was blessed with the hearing ability of Bayard the bloodhound, because she immediately pivoted on her heel.

"Dominion over Living Things," she replied, rather cockily. She paused and inhaled deeply. "You should try it sometime."

Stayne couldn't help but raise his brows. Why was the queen constantly snotty to him? And why was she such a grouch to her child? And what is she to call herself a queen when she can't even treat her child, her own flesh and blood, half-decent? None of it made sense to Stayne, but he promised to remain loyal as long as she was on the throne. He feared that would be forever. He also promised that he would remain loyal to Beth, when she became queen.

Iracebeth sighed. "Well, the time has come to become the all-powerful." She turned to him. "Goodbye, my dearest Stayne. Keep the Princess within the walls." She stepped forward, and hugged him tightly. To her it was something special, to him, it was just plain awkward.

As soon as she released her grip on him, he bade her goodbye, then, she jumped down the hole.

She began falling, flailing everywhere, and yet muttering a curse under her breath. As she was falling, the hole began to turn, exactly like the Round Hall had done. Then, as she neared the exit, she managed to grab a bookshelf that was embedded into the dirt. Iracebeth then struggled to pull herself upwards, buts he finally did. She climbed out of the hole, and wiped the dust from her kirtle.

"Easily done," she muttered.

Iracebeth turned her back to the hole, and looked at Upperland.

Why it was disgusting!

Unlike in Underland, the sky was not blue, it was a dark mixture of gray, purple, and black. There was an awful smell in the air. And before her, stood a great city of cobblestone streets and brick buildings. Was this the place where Alice truly resided? It seemed too dreary even for Mirana, and that was horrid.

"What is this place?" Iracebeth asked herself.

There is only one way to find Alice in a place so big. She had to take matters into her own hands, and explore the city.


	3. London

**YAY! It's London Time, BABY! I've decided that Racie and Beth's relationship needs a good stitching in this story. **

_**London, England, 1864**_

Iracebeth could tell right away that she was no longer in Underland. Everything was much too disgusting and smelly. Everywhere she went, people pointed and stared- most likely at her head size, or possibly, her hairstyle- people even threw things at her.

The streets were crowded, there was no deny in that. Around every turn she made, she found herself staring into the face of someone twice as scary as the last one. Immediately she missed Underland, she missed Stayne; she missed the Red Knights, her castle, her court, even her child-

Her child?

Iracebeth couldn't help but laugh inside. She couldn't possibly miss a person she hardly knew! Even though she loved her daughter- or rather _seemed _to love her- she was too busy being a queen to be a mother. Besides, all that mattered right now was becoming the Great Alice Slayer.

As Iracebeth tensed in her boots, she found herself staring at a street sign. It read: Fleet Street.

"Fleet Street?" Iracebeth asked herself, puzzled. "What a quizzical name."

She decided that taking the street with the quizzical name was much better than having to face the mean-spirited people on the other side of town.

How she began to regret her decision quickly. Even more people laughed at her, and more things were thrown. The buildings became more dreary and serfs sat everywhere in the mud pits. Men riding huge horses spat at her about her head, and woman chuckled meanly in her face.

"Oh, will this nightmare ever end?" she cried to herself. _Face it; I should've stayed in Underland. _

As she neared the corner of the street, she found a certain set of stairs comfortable- looking and she sat on them. The stairs were lofty, and they led to a small room which the landowner must have rented out. Behind her, a huge stack of outdoor tables were piled messily, and the building she had her back to said: Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies.

_What in the name of the Hightop's clock is a meat pie? _Iracebeth thought neatly and amazed. _A type of nourishment, no doubt.  
_

Nourishment. How Iracebeth's small body ached for tadpoles on toast! Her most favorite meal of all. She was also quite fond of caviar. She doubted hardly that she could get caviar somewhere in this place. Unless someone recognized her!

Iracebeth quietly surveyed the faces of the people who walked passed. She was quite lost in the activity of the streets when a voice rang out.

"Oi! You there!"

Iracebeth jumped from her seat, and looked up. Above her, on the balcony of the stairs, a man so tall, so dark, and so handsome stood. He had bushy black hair, with a very conspicuous section of white in it. He was wearing a brown leather vest with white sleeves. And something shiny was clenched in his left hand.

"What are you doin' on my stairs?" he asked.

She eyed him carefully. _Be tough, you still are queen. _"Please forgive me for my intrusion, Sir, but I was quite tired," she informed him, sticking her nose in the air.

The man walked toward her, down the stairs. He began laughing obnoxiously when he saw her gown, and her head size. "What are you supposed to be?" he asked crudely.

"I am Iracebeth! Countess of Crims and High Queen of Underland," Iracebeth said proudly.

"Queen?" he laughed. "You're no queen!"

"Pardon me?" Iracebeth asked loudly. "Well, you're very rude."

"It is a pleasant costume, though," remarked the man.

As soon as he said that, a girl riding bareback on a huge black horse whipping around the corner at a canter. "Sorry, Mr. T!" called the girl, as her horse passed them.

Iracebeth was quite used to wild children, but this girl was much wilder than Beth ever could be. From what Iracebeth could see Beth was no match when it came to wildness. Whoever this girl was, Iracebeth was certain that she'd keep an eye on her.

The man who was called Mr. T finished his journey down the stairs until he was about three feet away from the tip of Iracebeth's nose. He was so tall, Iracebeth felt intimidated. He looked down upon her. "What did you say your name was?" he asked.

Iracebeth looked up, and straight into the eye. "Iracebeth," she replied deeply.

"Irace-what?"

"Iracebeth."

"Oh, Iracebeth, my apologies."

Iracebeth curled her lips for a moment. "Who are you?" she practically demanded.

Mr. T stepped an inch forward, causing Iracebeth to step back. "Todd. Sweeney Todd."

He had quite the darting look in his eyes and they seemed to glint black for a minute. Iracebeth suddenly realized that his eyes weren't black, they were just dark. To her, Sweeney was the tallest man she had ever seen, and the palest. Truth be told, he frightened her a little. The tallest person she had ever seen was Stayne, and Sweeney was even taller than him.

"Charmed, I'm sure."

The man called Sweeney took a step closer to her. "What's the deal with you head? Have you got a tumor?" he asked.

"No," Iracebeth hissed. "I'm just much too smart is all; my brain needed room to breath."

Sweeney grunted. "Doubt it."

He made a swift movement onto the stairs once again. He was chuckling as he ascended half way up them. He stopped, and looked down upon her. "Now, listen, go on and continue your business and leave a barber to his work."

Iracebeth took a small step forward. "Perhaps you can help me first, Mr.….Todd," she said, just remembering his name. If she was ever so bad with the names of the ladies in her court, she'd refer to them as 'you.' But this was not her court, and he was defiantly no lady.

Sweeney slowly ascended onward. It was clear that he was ignoring her.

"Mr. Todd," Iracebeth called quietly.

No answer.

"I WILL NOT BE IGNORED! OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" she screamed as loud as he vocal chords could handle.

Sweeney stopped at the top step. Iracebeth scanned every inch of him. The razor he had in his hand opened, revealing a shiny blade. So shiny, that Iracebeth was certain that the cities sunlight had been transferred into the blade, and that's why there was hardly any in the city. He slowly turned around, revealing that he had his teeth clenched. "What exactly do you want help with?" he hissed.

"I just wish to know where I am," she replied flatly.

"Welcome to London," he hissed. "You cow!"

Iracebeth snorted. "Pardon me, but I am no such thing! I am your queen and I shall be respected."

He quickly began to rush down the stairs. "Queen!" he hissed, getting close to her, and pinning her on a picnic table by her neck. "You're no queen! Even if you are, you're not my queen. My queen lives that way," he hissed, pointing his razor somewhere.

Iracebeth lay still, just looking into Sweeney's eyes. They seemed angry, with an immense touch of sadness to them.

Finally, he calmed. "Come on with me," he said. He grabbed her by her wrist, and led her into the building that mentioned pies on it.

At the front counter, a woman was slicing a huge clump of meat with the biggest knife Iracebeth had ever seen. Her hair was a tangled mess of brown tendrils which rested on her neck. She wore a black gown with a red- trimmed corset underneath. The knife made loud scraping noises upon the counter as she sliced through the hunk of juicy meat. She looked up when she heard the door close.

"Mr. T, I've been lookin' all over for you-who is that?" she asked, much perplexed, pointing her knife in Iracebeth's direction.

Sweeney jerked Iracebeth into one of the booths. The woman came from behind the counter, revealing her womanly figure and poise. She approached Iracebeth, but looked at Sweeney. "Oh no, Mr. T, don't tell me she's another critic sent 'ere by Mrs. Mooney," she complained. She took a step toward the big-headed woman, and surveyed every inch of her body.

"Don't worry, Love, it's just a tourist," Sweeney said calmly.

The woman got a huge grin on her face. Awkwardly, she held the knife up, so that the tip was pointed upward. "We love tourists," she said.

Iracebeth held her chin high; she refused to be intimidated by a scrawny woman with dark eyes and a knife. After all, she had a dagger strapped to her thigh under her gown. She also had one stashed away in her kirtle. She could easily take her to the floor- by the efforts of her dagger-like a true monarch. If only Stayne had come, she regretted leaving him a little.

"I am Iracebeth of Crims, High Queen of Underland, and I can inform you that I am indeed no tourist. I'm here on strict business," Iracebeth said, holding a fist tightly to her bosom.

"And what business would that be, dearie?" asked the woman deeply.

Iracebeth ignored her, for she did not know her.

"Speak up," urged the woman.

"I refuse to commit to idle chatter with one with whom I am not aquatinted," Iracebeth said firmly.

"I'll make it easier, then," replied the woman. "I am Mrs. Lovett. And this," she stopped and stabbed the knife into the table before Iracebeth, leaning into her, "is my pie shop."

Iracebeth quirked a perfectly-formed brow, "What kind of pies?" she asked. _Finally something nourishing! _

Mrs. Lovett stared at her blankly. She then ripped the knife from the table, and stepped back. "Meat pies," she replied.

_What the hell is a meat pie?_ Iracebeth thought. She had heard of pies made of things that grew on trees from Upperland, but never a pie made of meat. _Perhaps tadpole pies are on the menu!_

"There, you know me, now, what business 'ave you come to Fleet Street for?" Mrs. Lovett asked, taking Iracebeth's mind from food.

Iracebeth tensed. She now knew the woman, and had to fess up. "I am in search of a girl. A girl with golden hair," Iracebeth said.

Suddenly, Sweeney whirled around from the counter. "Did you say 'golden hair'?" he asked.

"That's correct."

Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett glanced at each other. What could this woman want with Johanna?

Iracebeth took by their silence that they wanted her to continue, so she did. "Her name is Alice Kingsleigh."

Sweeney sighed. Thank god it was nothing to do with his daughter, who he had not successfully rescued. Perhaps he could trade Johanna for a woman with a big head. Perhaps Judge Turpin was looking for a woman with unique features. Her big head could earn him a couple of spare pounds.

_**Underland, Sunset**_

As soon as the day in Underland was out, Beth mounted Penny once again. She had a long day playing with the orphans. Throughout most of the day, they ran about playing games that Beth was prohibited to play. Beth adored the children, and thought it sad that her mother didn't care enough to move the orphanage from the morgue and into a nicer place. Beth decided that when she was queen, she'd order a castle built in the Outlands for the orphans. It was much better than the small stone cottage they were crammed into.

She rode Penny very slow, for she didn't want to return home. But as the sun began to set, she began to canter along the dirt road toward the castle. Normally, she would have galloped, but Penny was tired from giving all the little girls rides. Beth would lift them into the saddle, and lead them around the morgue. The children loved it, and it made Beth happy to see them smile.

As she neared the castle, something seemed amiss. Why, as she neared the drawbridge, she could hear a lot of people laughing. No one in Salazen Grum ever laughed. Not even Stayne laughed.

Beth quickly rode around the castle, and into the stables. She quickly removed Penny's tack and turned her into the paddock. She then made her way into the castle.

In the throne room, Beth was surprised to see about two hundred people gathered. They all were drinking wine and laughing at one another. A whole bunch of them were gathered around her mother's throne. Beth pushed her way through the crowd, until she saw from where the laughing was produced. Stayne was sitting lopsided on her mother's throne. Upon his head, the crown, which once belonged to her mother's king, sat crooked on his head. In his hand, a bottle of wine was clenched in his hand.

"Oi! What on earth do you think you're doing?" asked Beth loudly.

Stayne ceased his laughing and eyed her playfully. He was horridly drunk. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the royal brat!"

Beth tapped her foot impatiently. "Surely you aren't allowed to sit upon the throne of your queen, when you are not even a royal," she replied swiftly.

The room boomed with laughter.

"What are you going to do, call the guard on me?" Stayne asked. "Hardly. The guards are all drunk in the dinning hall."

Beth began to glow crimson. "Where is my mother? Where is the queen?" she demanded.

Stayne began to chuckle. "Your mother is quite the fool. She believes that she is the Great Alice Slayer," he chuckled.

"WHERE IS SHE?" Beth screamed loudly.

"If you really want to know, she is in Upperland."

Beth began to turned dark red. She immediately burst from the throne room, and ran to her chamber. Once within the comfort of her own walls, she threw two red velvet gowns into a pile, and rolled them up, tethering them together with a strand of tanned leather. She pulled the roll tightly.

"Your Highness," said a voice.

Beth looked over her shoulder, and into the face of her nursemaid, Camille. "Lady Windsor, have the groom saddle my warhorse. Also inform him of this, have him tie my saddlebag to my saddle."

"Aye, Princess."

Beth quickly gathered a few more things, and then pushed her way from the castle, and into the stables. There, her black steed waited patiently. She mounted, and readied for the biggest adventure of her life.


	4. Foolishness

**~Thanks to Niphuria for reviewing~**

_**London, Midday**_

Iracebeth was quite confused about everything around her. She had learned that she was in London, in a place called England. Though she had no idea what time it was here, she guessed midday, she was quite sure that it was midnight in Underland. Whatever time it was here, she really didn't care, all she could think about was finding Alice.

She also couldn't stop think about Sweeney, and how vicious he was to her. She always was attracted to a vicious man, but he took it to the next level. It wasn't just viciousness within him, it was hatred, and revenge, all of which Iracebeth practically swooned over. But how could she swoon? She was a queen, after all, and she had to be tough and manly.

"Would you like a glass of ale, dearie?" asked Mrs. Lovett from her counter. "It's free."

Iracebeth nodded. She had no idea what ale was, but it was a drink, nevertheless.

Truth be told, Iracebeth missed having her court in tow. But now, she was alone, with an enchanting barber, and a creepy baker.

Sweeney had run out to give a man a shave, or at least, that's what Mrs. Lovett told her. Iracebeth hardly believed her though; she was certain that Sweeney was up to something, something he didn't want anyone to see. Iracebeth deferred her thoughts when two children came into the shop. At first, they didn't notice her sitting in the booth by the window.

"'Ello, Children," said Mrs. Lovett from her counter. "What's the news on Johanna?" she asked.

The boy, about twelve replied, "We saw Anthony outside Fogg's Asylum. He 'as Johanna locked in there."

"Stupid Judge," hissed the girl beside the boy. The girl looked in Iracebeth's direction. "Who's the big head?" she asked.

Mrs. Lovett stridently smacked her rolling pin onto the counter. "Knock it off!" she hissed. "Gen, you know I hate judging people by looks. I won't have it in my shop!"

Iracebeth watched as the girl named Genevieve lowered her head, "Sorry, Mrs. Lovett."

"That's aright, love. Come 'ere, can you roll the dough for a moment? Me bones is tired." Mrs. Lovett stepped into the middle of the shop. "And Toby," she said in the direction of the boy. "Please go tell Mr. Todd about Johanna. I'm sure he'll want to know."

As Toby fled the shop, Genevieve kept looking at Iracebeth. The girl smiled in her direction. "I love your hair color. It's very radiant," she commented to Iracebeth.

Iracebeth just looked at her for a moment.

"It's alright, Dearie, Genevieve doesn't mean any 'arm. She just 'as 'er bad moments," Mrs. Lovett said.

Iracebeth sighed. "Do you really think so?" she asked proudly, not loosing her royal air.

"Oh, absolutely! I 'ave always admired red 'eads," said Genevieve as she harshly rolled over the dough. She set down the rolling pin and began pushing on the dough.

"Come on, Dearie, do it 'ow I've shown you," pointed out Mrs. Lovett.

Genevieve nodded happily. She then began pounding the dough hardly with her fists. She then picked up the rolling pin again, and began beating it into submission. Genevieve soon became violent and the next thing Iracebeth knew, the girl was beating it so violently that even she was a little frightened.

Mrs. Lovett began to think it humorous, and began whooping with laughter. "That a girl, Gen, that a girl!"

After Genevieve's moment of violence, the shop began quiet.

"So, where are you from?" Genevieve asked.

"Underland," replied Iracebeth.

Genevieve quirked a brow, "You must be the queen of Underland."

Iracebeth nodded. "That's correct. Have you heard of me?"

"I'm afraid not. But I see you're wearing one of those shiny 'at-things," she pointed out.

"My crown?" Iracebeth asked.

The girl nodded. "That's right, your crown."

Mrs. Lovett moaned happily. "Gen, 'ow can you forget what a crown is called?"

"I don't know. I'm not a queen, ya know!"

"Watch your bloody tongue around guests," hissed Mrs. Lovett. It was obvious that Mrs. Lovett was hard on her children. "Can't 'ave you children goin' around swearin' at people. Do you wish to 'ave me arrested?"

Genevieve looked down at the dough before her. "No, Ma'am."

Mrs. Lovett approached her, never averting her stare from her. She gently lifted Genevieve's chin. "Come now, finish that dough so we can 'elp our new friend."

Iracebeth watched closely, never even considering parting her lips to speak. Truth be told, she was sort of enjoying the relationship between Mrs. Lovett and Genevieve. Iracebeth knew more than anything that she would never be allowed to have a perfect relationship with Beth. The court would never allow it; neither would the high council, or the laws of being a queen. She knew that if Beth were Mirana's, Mirana would keep a close relationship with her, but Iracebeth was much too different from her sister.

No, she had to keep things the way they were. Beth was growing up and didn't require her mother, she never did.

Mrs. Lovett sat noisily across from Iracebeth. "What trouble two children can be," she teased. "'Ave you any children, dear?" she asked.

Iracebeth shook her head. As far as she concerned, Beth was too busy with being a princess than she was being Iracebeth's child. "No, I don't," said Iracebeth smoothly. "I can't," she whispered deeply.

"I'm so, so sorry," was all Mrs. Lovett replied.


	5. Secrets and Surprise

**I apologize for not continuing this story, but I've bee so depressed lately. My dad has yet another girlfriend. This makes it his fourth in the past three years. But, on the bright side, she's actually really nice. She show jumps horses- like me- around the world. And she might even take me to Kensington Gardens with her next year! Again, I apologize. This chapter is a little twisted, even for me. **

**~Thanks to Maxine the Unknowingly Admired, Niphuria, and xBadxRomancesx for reviewing~**

**Underland, Midnight**

As Beth attempted to achieve sleep in her chamber that night, she could hardly even keep her eyes closed. Constantly, she tossed and turned in her bed. On a normal day, she was glad when she got to snuggle under her red satin sheets and dream of riding the Bandersnatch alongside Alice, even though the Jabberwocky was already dead. How her mother managed to keep the throne, she did not know. But what she did know was that the death of the Jabberwocky had practically shattered her mother.

Iracebeth had spent many long days in her chamber, just pacing around. And when she wasn't doing that, she was either sleeping, or crying into the arms of anyone around her.

Everyone except Beth.

It had been the third day after the Frabjous day, and the Red Queen had been crying softly onto her throne cushion. She awaited an answer from a guard, seeing if the Jabberwocky could be brought back to life through a potion of some sort. When the guard finally arrived with the answer, strolling into the throne room as if he owned the place, he formally announced to the queen that there was no hope for the creature.

Stunned by this, the queen had shoved her way into the corridor, where Beth stood at the other end. She had her face buried in her hands as she ran.

Beth immediately opened her arms to her, welcoming her sadness.

But Iracebeth rejected the girl's offered comfort with a loud screech, as she rushed into Stayne's arms, just as he appeared from round the corner. Iracebeth had run into him so hard, that in order to catch her and hold her properly, he had to drop upon his knees as soon as he got a good grip on her.

Beth stood there in awe, watching the attention the knave was receiving from her mother. _Her _mother. Of all people in Underland, it had to be Beth's mother who ignored her the most. If only she knew who her father was. The facts caused many feelings of abandonment and neglect to begin to fester within her. She truly was a princess of Underland.

Beth had ridden out to the rabbit hole to search for her mother, only to be dragged back by red knights. And now, she was practically locked in the most vacant place in Underland at night.

She waited until the castle fell silent. She quickly got up from her bed, and put on a fresh gown. She packed a rucksack full of potions and powders given to her by the White Queen for her birthday. She then used the bedpost to tie a bed sheet to it. She began knotting her bed sheets together, until she had a rope. She quietly lowered herself down onto the second floor balcony. It was cold in Underland that night, and a strong breeze turned Beth's neatly combed curls into a ratty mess of red hair. Despite the cold, she knew that she had to find her mother; she had to bring the queen back. Without the queen, Underland will fall into the wrong hands. Although, Beth wouldn't mind having her aunt as Queen. She probably would receive more attention if Mirana were queen.

Beth turned her face into the wind, and looked at the tree tops of the Tugely wood, just a few yards across the drawbridge. The trees waved ominously in the breeze. They reminded her of her childhood. No matter how much she tried to move as a child, her mother was always holding her back, like the wind did with the trees. Just above, a bright yellow moon shone through the trees, illuminating her way. Why, it was a super moon.

Beth quietly climbed over the railing of the balcony, and surveyed the bushes below her in the croquet grounds. If she could calculate her jump correctly, she would be able to survive the drop.

_Ah, hell! Forget being cautious!_ She thought as she plunged into the bush below her.

She sat quietly for a moment, just making sure that no one caught sight of her dropping from the balcony. As soon as she knew it was safe, she bolted across the croquet grounds. On the other side, behind a bush, a massive hole in the wall was. Beth had discovered it when she was very small. She could remember the day when she was still a toddler, and was playing in the grass, as her mother played a rousing game of croquet nearby. The memory brought tears to her eyes, which she wiped onto her sleeve.

She crawled through the hole, and ran across the main courtyard, and rolled under the wooden fence that separated it from the stables. Once she got in, she picked the lock on the gate, and slipped inside. She didn't even bother with a saddle. She retrieved a rope hackamore from the tack room, and put it on Penny. Soon after, she galloped out from the stables, and headed across the drawbridge.

_I will find you, Mum._

**London, Evening **

After many hours, Iracebeth was staring to feel a tad comfortable. Though she missed the comfort of being surrounded by knights and Stayne, she actually didn't mind staying with the baker and her two children. She found their company delighting, although, she was jealous of the way Mrs. Lovett looked at the Sweeney. Why couldn't she ever look at a man in such way, and not be accused of being a royal whore?

_My sister is the royal whore! Not me, I'm still faithful to my Bertrand_, Iracebeth thought, picturing her late husband in her mind. She could still feel his breath on her neck as they spent "quality time" together. If only he was Beth's father, as she wished he would be. But she had wooed another out of foolish pride. She was once lost and needed masculine comfort, and Bertrand was at war at the time. She chose a man who was strong yet soft, handsome yet faithful. Yes, he was such a good replacement for the king. But what happened, Iracebeth ended up being something she never wanted to be, a mother.

But something about Sweeney vexed her so; vexed her in a sensual kind of way.

No. She couldn't waste her time swooning over some random man, she was on a quest. She had to find Alice Kingsleigh quickly, and rid the world of her.

Iracebeth watched how Genevieve and Mrs. Lovett interacted with one another. Constantly laughing and smiling at one another. Whatever work must be done, they seemed to do it together. When one of them was breaking her back while performing laborious work, the other stuck her nose in immediately, and they shared the burden. She also admired the way that Toby seemed to protect Mrs. Lovett from anything around her. Why couldn't Beth do that for her?

_Because she is a girl!_ Iracebeth thought. _And not the son I hoped for!_

But why would a simple thing such as gender stop Beth from laying down her life for her queen? Iracebeth hardly cared what she learned from the knight or what Stayne taught her about self-defense, but why was the child not being taught to defend her queen?

"You're lucky you arrived when you did, Iracebeth," said Mrs. Lovett later that night. "A new bed just arrived."

_Will I ever sleep, though? _Iracebeth asked herself. She doubted it because lately, she's had an awful time achieving her required nine hours of sleep. Perhaps it's due to the lack of fat pigs for her to rest her feet on in the throne room. The comfort of fat pigs always made Iracebeth sleep well. But now, she had nothing to set her feet upon. Nothing to make feel powerless, after all, she was the queen.

But she couldn't give up. Even though she was far from anything she ever knew, she had to remain strict and serious, there was no time for emotional set-backs.

Later that night, as Iracebeth sat on the bed, she was right, and couldn't sleep. She spent the whole night, lying awake and staring out the window.

The next morning, Iracebeth managed to retrieve about two hours of sleep after all, and Genevieve awoke her.

"'Ey, you," said Genevieve. "Wake up, we 'ave customers."

"Genevieve!" hissed Mrs. Lovett. "Let her be!"

Iracebeth slowly glared at her. "Not to worry, Eleanor, I needed to get up anyway."

"Alrigh', then," said Mrs. Lovett, violently bashing pie dough. "You 'ungry, dearie?"

Iracebeth shook her head. "No. I am never hungry in the morning."

This was true, because, had she be in Underland, she'd be at an execution right about now. She could just picture it, but not grasp it. She would be sitting on her throne on the balcony, her feet on the warm comfort of a pig's belly. Stayne would be at her side, one hand on the throne, the other rested on the hilt of his sword. Her courtiers would be there, giggling about the death of someone they hated. And the princess would be at her other side, probably looking at her boots, ashamed. For Beth often thought she was unwanted by her mother, and was merely leverage to help her mother to the throne. Besides, Iracebeth knew that the child didn't love her anyway.

"I should be on my way," Iracebeth said. She tensed. "Goodbye to you all, and thank you," she said softly. She knew that she wasn't queen in this realm, and she had to be polite. Iracebeth slowly strode from the shop, leaving everyone confused in her misconduct. As she went to leave the pie shop, Sweeney swooped around a corner, and caught her arm. By the time he got her, they were already outside near the street. He gently pushed her against the wall, as if not to hurt her.

"Listen," he said deeply. "Why don't you stay a while?"

Iracebeth quirked a brow, "And what if I don't?" she asked.

He didn't want to admit that he had developed a strange feeling for her. "Come here, I want to show you something," he said, pulling her by the arm towards the outdoor stairway.

"Hey! Watch what you're doing to me!" Iracebeth warned, when he accidentally pulled her arm to hard.

He took her up the stairs, and into his barber shop. There, in front of Iracebeth, was the hugest chair she had ever seen. Under the chair, huge mechanics protruded. She was unaware that Sweeney was a barber by trade. But what was the sole purpose of the intriguing mechanical chair? Iracebeth grinned evilly at the wheels underneath the chair, they made her think of her state-of-the-art torture chamber in Salazen Grum, and that made her feel ecstatic.

"You see this?" Sweeney asked, running his hands over the back of this chair. "This, my dear, is the barber chair of kings," he bragged.

"What does it do?" Iracebeth asked, her grin remaining.

"Only make all of one's dreams come true," Sweeney said, giving her that evil and dark smile he always gave Mrs. Lovett. He gently pushed his foot down on the pedal in the floor, and the chair flung upwards, then tilted downwards. While the chair returned itself to its normal setting, Sweeney grabbed one of his razors, and reflected the blade in the stream of morning light that poured in through the window.

Suddenly, he grabbed Iracebeth, and shoved her into the chair. He grabbed a fist-full of crimson hair, and yanked her head back. He gently put the razor to her throat. "Step one," he said. "Check."

Iracebeth stared up at him with a special twinkle in her eyes. "What is that, my love?" she asked, getting a tad too seductive.

"Step two," he said, quickly thrashing it across her throat.

Iracebeth let out a cry of pleasure, as a scarlet ribbon of blood began to appear on her neck.

"Step three. Down the hole we go," Sweeney said, reaching his foot for the pedal.

Iracebeth smiled, and chuckled deeply. "Nice try, my love."

Sweeney dropped his razor onto the floor, as the wound began to close up before his very eyes.

"Dominion over living things, my love. You should try it sometime."


	6. Cat Fight

**I'm back! And I must say, having all of your files deleted isn't all that bad. I actually have more room for Fanfiction stories. I've been dying to write Sweeney's reaction. **

**PS: Iracebeth is evil! I won't mention anymore ****J**

**London****, Morning**

Sweeney stood; his jaw agape in awe. Had Iracebeth actually just _healed _herself? He didn't know what to say. Never before had one of his victims manage to _not _die. Their weak throats always gave in to the silver blade of Sweeney's razor; this was an outrage! All Sweeney could bring himself to do was drop his razor to the ground.

"Did you enjoy my trick?" Iracebeth asked with a seductive smile upon her face. She half-expected his reaction to be vehement, but he just stood there.

He suddenly changed. "Very lovely," he half-yelled with an odd tone in his voice. He circled to the side of the chair once more. "Now, my love. Let me show you mine."

Sweeney thrust his foot on the pedal, sending Iracebeth flailing g backwards, and down into the hole in the floor. Iracebeth screamed. She was so taken in by the rush, that she hardly noticed that she had already hit the ground. She was lying on her back, looking up into the hole from which she dropped. Sweeney had already closed it, and all she saw up there, was darkness. Nothing joyful about it.

Iracebeth had to not let this affect her. She got to her feet, and scanned her surroundings. Why, she was in a dark and damp room. It smelled of sour milk andmeat? Over near the wall, was an old mining cart, filled with substances. Iracebeth walked slowly toward it, and, being the daring queen she was, reached her hand into the cart. Whatever she managed to grab on to, it was fleshy and wet. She pulled her hand gently out, and there it was. With five little stubbles and nails.

Iracebeth had pulled out a severed hand.

She examined it for a moment, and then, smiled evilly. She chuckled. "How wonderful!" she giggled.

She truly was enjoying this. Sick things that made even the toughest man sick, Iracebeth enjoyed a lot. Things such as dead animals and severed heads. Especially the old, severed head of Bertrand, her late husband. Even though he was vicious, cheating brute, she loved to keep his head around. It was on a spike in the dungeon. Though she was certain that her love of all things evil was erratic.

She immediately thought of Beth for a moment. But not long enough to make the thought of the girl a big deal.

Iracebeth threw the hand back into the cart, and took a moment to stare at the large oven in the corner. Immense, it truly was. Flames burned happily on the inside, and Iracebeth thought that the oven could be used to her advantage some day. Perhaps she should have one in the castle, even though almost every room is adjourned with its own hearth.

She noticed a metal door on the far side of the room, and took it to be the way out. When she discovered that the door was locked, she began slapping it with her palm. When no one came to her rescue, she became angry.

"HELLLLLOOOO! THE QUEEN IS LOCKED IN HERE! I COMMAND YO TO OPEN THIS DOOR, ELEANOR!"

Iracebeth jumped back when the huge metal lock was being turned. In stepped Genevieve.

"Oi, what are you doin' down 'ere?" she asked.

"That man thrust me down here," replied Iracebeth, giving her head a violent jerk towards the ceiling.

"You mean Mr. Todd?" Genevieve tensed.

Iracebeth nodded. "That's right."

"Oh, I always 'ad the doubts about that man. I am only nice to 'im because Lovett likes 'im. If this were my shop- and believe me, someday it will be, Lovett won't live forever- I would make sure that 'e never steps foot in it again." Genevieve shivered. "C'mon, you're majesty; we should talk to Lovett about this."

Iracebeth paused for a moment. "I'm going to have a few words with that man myself," she hissed.

"Don't! He'll try to kill you," Genevieve cried.

Iracebeth stopped, and looked at her. "He already did."

Iracebeth began stomping up the stairs, toward the pie shop.

"Wait! Ugh, your majesty, please don't," Genevieve cried, attempting to follow her without tripping herself on the stairs. "Please!'E's a bad enough man already; we don't need him killin' a monarch!" Genevieve yelled, as they entered the pie shop.

Mrs. Lovett had been busy stabbing the end of her knife into her cutting board. She did this on account of boredom, as she often did. She practically jumped from her knickers when the back door of her pie shop was smashed open. She jumped, dropping the knife onto the floor, so that it stuck into one of the floor boards, just as Iracebeth walked in.

"Oi! What's goin' on 'ere?" Mrs. Lovett asked.

Genevieve stopped before her. "We 'ave to stop 'er. Mr. Todd threw 'er down in the cellar with that fancy chair of 'is and now she's goin' to talk to 'im!"

Mrs. Lovett gasped, and bolted out the door. Iracebeth was just about to reach for the handle, when Mrs. Lovett appeared before her, blocking the door.

Iracebeth eyed her oddly. "You're fast!" she observed.

Mrs. Lovett smirked. "When you're raising two children, you 'ave to be."

"Yes, yes, I've heard it before. Now, out of my way!" she hissed.

Mrs. Lovett decided to be rash, figuring that it was the only way to discourage a monarch. "And wot if I don't?" she asked, quirking a brow.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" she yelled.

"NO!" hissed Mrs. Lovett. "You leave Mr. T alone."

"YOU BETTER GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I HIT THAT UGLY FACE OF YOURS!" Iracebeth screamed.

"YOU WILL NOT!" hissed a voice behind them.

Both women looked past Iracebeth, to see Genevieve and Toby standing there. Toby was holding a butcher knife, and Genevieve had Mrs. Lovett's rolling pin. She tapped it on her free palm, showing that she was most certainly not afraid to use it to beat the big-head into a pulp. She had been nice, and warned Iracebeth what she was getting into trying to anger Sweeney. And now, the woman had threatened Mrs. Lovett, the closest thing she'd ever have to a mother. And that was _not _acceptable.

Of course, Toby felt the same way.

Mrs. Lovett smirked again. She giggled. "Perhaps you should consider getting some kiddies. They're so useful," she bragged. Se tried to be nice to the tourist, but now, she had to defend her love.

That was it! Iracebeth had enough, and drew the dagger she always hid in her kirtle. As she went to strike the baker, Mrs. Lovett grabbed her by her gown, and shoved her backwards. Iracebeth lost her dagger. The two women were too busy beating the hell out of one another to realize that they had rolled down the staircase.

Mrs. Lovett ended up underneath Iracebeth, as Iracebeth grabbed her by the throat. Iracebeth reached for dagger, which was about a foot away. As she held it to the baker's neck, she felt imperial again. "Dont presume to stop me!" she hissed.

Iracebeth slowly raised the dagger.

Suddenly, Iracebeth's hand burst with something, blood spilled from it, and it began to sting horridly. She dropped the dagger, screamed loudly, and clutched her wrist. She looked over by the stairs. Genevieve stood there, with some kind of machine in her hand.

Iracebeth stopped screaming, and smirked. Again, her hand began to slowly heal itself. "Nice try, brat!" she hissed.

She grabbed the dagger, again and held it above her head.

Genevieve struggled to re-load her one-shot pistol. Damn those pirates who traded it to her for her diamond earrings she was wearing when she was still a beggar!

Iracebeth studied the baker's face. She wasn't looking down into the face of a person of an evil nature. Eleanor Lovett was just an average English woman who was trying to make a descent living and enjoy her life. Could Iracebeth sink so low as to kill her because she tried to save her from being hurt? In Underland, she was known for a short tempter, but she was not known for killing. At least killing by her own hands.

Iracebeth looked to the left on the ground. She looked into it, and looked at her features. She then looked back at Eleanor.

_That hairthat facethose eyeswewewe look the same. _

"Please," Eleanor whimpered.

That was it; Iracebeth couldn't kill a woman who resembled her so much. Iracebeth threw the dagger into the puddle in defeat, and got to her feet. Genevieve ran to Eleanor's side, and threw her arms around her. Toby stood as he was, eyeing Iracebeth angrily. Though the young boy felt proud to be able to help defend his baker, he was still afraid of Iracebeth and her big head.

Iracebeth shied away from everything. She couldn't take it anymore. She gave the group one last look, then, plunged away from them, and into the pie shop.

"What do we do, Mum?" Genevieve asked Eleanor.

Eleanor took a long breath. She didnt know what to say anymore. Instead, she just buried her face in Genevieve's shoulder, and cried.


	7. Upperland

**Yep, so Racie was pretty evil the last chapter. Note: A special guest will be making a special appearance. I know that this guest is from modern day, but whoever said that I couldnt place her here? **

**London****, Afternoon**

Soon after the horrors that had happened at the pie shop, Iracebeth pushed through the crowd of people on Fleet Street. She had not a clue on where she was going, for she had no knowledge of London at all. She did have _some_ knowledge of the big city, but she hardly could remember it at all. Many people crowded into the streets, on their way home from the workhouses and factories. Iracebeth didnt know that though, she thought that they were just there to be in her way. She was sure that she had to find Alice soon, for she had abandoned her kingdom to come up here and search for Alice.

Iracebeth made her way towards a huge building with many windows. She guessed it to be where someone important lived, and decided that it looked too risky to ask for assistance. After all, many soldiers in red and blue outfits with gold sashes marched up and down the premises.

It was too much! Everything she had ever known was miles away underground, and her daughter probably didnt miss her. Iracebeth couldn't help but to collapse in a puddle in a back-alley. Everything around her was so strange. She had hardly seen anything that she actually knew what it was. Had she been in Underland, she would have hoisted herself back to her feet and continue on her way, but alas, this was not Underland, and it never would be.

"Oi!" squeaked a voice. "Are you alright?"

Iracebeth looked upward and found herself looking at a woman who resembled Mrs. Lovett. The girl had a head of massive ponytails and her hair was all different colors. She was definitely not Mrs. Lovett though, she was too pretty.

"I'm fine," hissed Iracebeth. "Not that its any of your concern."

The girl held up her hands. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy now, Dearie, I was just tryin' to be polite." Iracebeth watched as the girl returned her hands back to normal. One hand on the strap of her small handbag, the other, on her waist.

Iracebeth quirked a perfectly formed brow. "Who are you?"

"The names Cora."

_Cora? What matter of name is that? _

Cora took a step towards her. "Now, that you know me, would you like to explain why you are a' sittin' in a puddle?"

Iracebeth wiped her face of all visible emotions. "I fell," she lied. Now she felt just plain wrong, Beth had lied to her about many things in the past, and now here she was lying to the face of an innocent stranger. How stupid she felt.

"Ah, well then," said Cora, reaching for Iracebeth's arm to help her up. "Up you go."

Once Iracebeth was on her feet, Cora gave her head strange glances. "Would you look at the size of that noggin," she said. "Its the oddest thing I have ever seen."

Iracebeth smirked, for her head wasn't the oddest thing she had never seen. There were plenty of odder things in Underland.

"What do they call you?" Cora asked.

"Iracebeth," Iracebeth said simply.

"Big 'ead and an odd name. You must not be from around 'ere, are you?"

"It just so happens that I am not." Perhaps Cora could point her on her way to Alice's house. "It just so happens that I am not from here, and that I require some assistance in locating a specific person."

Cora quirked a brow, she had not understood what on earth Iracebeth was jabbering about. Perhaps she could be of some assistance to her. "Perhaps if you come with me, I can get you some 'elp of which you seek," Cora said, gesturing toward the busy street behind them.

**Underland, Evening **

Beth was just as smart as to let Penny wander home. She had slid off of her steed's back, and instructed her to return home, where Beth hoped that Stayne would care for her. No matter how much Beth wanted to take the animal with her, she knew it was impossible; for it would be difficult to get them both up the hole. Beth watched her steed disappear into the thicket, before she made her way through the garden gate. She was careful trying not to awake any of the flowers, but old Rosemary caught onto her.

"You there," pointed out Rosemary.

Beth halted, and met the flower face-to-face. "Oh, hello, Rosemary."

"What are you doing way out here at this time of night?" Rosemary asked. It was odd, she always had hated Iracebeth, but the old rose adored Beth. "Shouldn't your highness be in bed?"

Beth tensed. She couldnt let anything else stop her. She had to find her mother before Stayne ruined the whole kingdom. She knew perfectly well that he would unless she brought the queen back. "Excuse my intrusion, Rosemary, but I am on an errand of most importance."

"Oh, and what would such errand be?" Rosemary asked.

"Have you seen my mother pass this way?" Beth asked, concealing her emotions.

Rosemary scowled, making the creases in her face deeper than they already were. "Now that you mention it, she did come through here a couple days ago."

Beth gasped. "A couple of days? Stayne told me-" she calmed. "Thank you, Rosemary. I shall be on my way now."

Beth then made her way into the round hall, where there actually were torches. She noticed that the rabbit hole was on the ground, rather than the ceiling. Why, the whole room was upside down. Beth looked around. Yes, she was actually standing on the ceiling of the round hall. Normally, hadnt she been on a quest, she would be squealing in joy. But now, she had to get to Upperland, and quickly.

Beth studied the whole intently. It was so dark, and she couldn't see hardly a thing down there. But she had to take the plunge. All of Underland depended on this one plunge.

So Beth grabbed fist-fulls of skirt material, and plunged down into the darkness.


End file.
